me, but finally he looked up.
“Think back, Button, to when your Pa was killed. Were them Injuns shooting arrows or bullets?”
I thought back.
“Well, there was a lot of shooting going on. You think them Injuns had rifles?”
“More’n likely,” Kinrich said, and his voice sounded angry. “More and more Injuns keep showing up with rifles, raiding and killing us Southern folks.”
“How do they get the rifles?”
“Comancheros,” Kinrich replied.
“Comancheros?” I asked.
“Usually they’re white or Spanish, and they trade rifles, knifes, and whiskey to the Injuns,” Kinrich explained.
“And you think Mr. Jones is a Comanchero?”
“I do,” Kinrich replied with a curt nod. “I figure that’s why them Injuns haven’t attacked the wagon train.”
“You’re probably right,” I said after I’d thought it over. “But how does this concern us?”
Kinrich’s voice hardened.
“There ain’t nothing lower than trading rifles to the Injuns, Button. Every last one of ’em should be dragged to the nearest tree and hung.”
“Most folks feel the same way ’bout bank robbers,” I said.
Kinrich frowned, but didn’t reply.
Chapter sixteen
We found them the next day.
It was mid-afternoon. Me and Kinrich were sitting a-horseback up on a ridge, and we were well-hidden in some trees.
Below us, about a quarter of a mile, was the Jones’ wagon. They were camped beside a stream, and they looked to be in no hurry to go anywhere.
Kinrich sat there for a good hour. He never said a word, and his face was real thoughtful as he studied the land before us.
I started to get restless, but I knew not to say anything.
“Nice layout,” Kinrich finally said. “See that big bunch of cottonwood trees on the other side of the wagon?”
I looked and nodded.
“After it gets dark, we could sneak right up to ’em if’n we was quiet enough.”
“Specially if they sleep as hard as you do,” I said.
Kinrich’s face stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“I was just joking,” I said quickly.
“Weren’t funny.”
There was an awkward moment of silence, and then Kinrich turned his horse and led out.
“Come on. Let’s circle in behind ’em before dark.”
I kicked up Slim and fell in behind Kinrich.
Kinrich didn’t say a word until after it had gotten dark, and by then we had circled in behind them. We pulled up in a low spot that was surrounded by trees, and Kinrich dismounted slowly and rubbed his shoulder gingerly.
“You all right?” I asked worriedly.
“I’m fine,” Kinrich replied, and he added sharply, “And keep your voice down. Voice travels far on a clear night like this, and we ain’t too far from ’em.”
“Sorry,” I lowered my voice.
Kinrich pulled out his six-shooter and made sure it was loaded right.
“Stay here, Button. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Can’t I come with you?” I spoke quickly.
Kinrich holstered his six-shooter and shot me an odd look.
“Don’t you want to stay here where it’s safe?” He asked.
“I’d rather come with you,” I replied.
Kinrich frowned as he thought on that, and then he shrugged.
“Come along then. But make sure and tie your horse good and tight. We don’t want him wandering off.”
I tied Slim to a tree and followed after Kinrich.
“Walk slow and quiet now,” he told me.
I nodded, and we crept from tree to tree.
I was nervous. My heart beat wildly, and my arms were shaking.
It seemed like forever, but finally we could make out the wagon. It was directly in front of us, and their horses were off to the right.
I noticed that one of the horses was still saddled. I looked at Kinrich and pointed, and Kinrich nodded when he saw it.
From the campfire a man suddenly stood, and me and Kinrich melted to the ground.
The man had his back to us, and he turned and walked over to the horse. He mounted up and looked down at the other two men.
The moon was shining just right, and I got a good
“Think back, Button, to when your Pa was killed. Were them Injuns shooting arrows or bullets?”
I thought back.
“Well, there was a lot of shooting going on. You think them Injuns had rifles?”
“More’n likely,” Kinrich said, and his voice sounded angry. “More and more Injuns keep showing up with rifles, raiding and killing us Southern folks.”
“How do they get the rifles?”
“Comancheros,” Kinrich replied.
“Comancheros?” I asked.
“Usually they’re white or Spanish, and they trade rifles, knifes, and whiskey to the Injuns,” Kinrich explained.
“And you think Mr. Jones is a Comanchero?”
“I do,” Kinrich replied with a curt nod. “I figure that’s why them Injuns haven’t attacked the wagon train.”
“You’re probably right,” I said after I’d thought it over. “But how does this concern us?”
Kinrich’s voice hardened.
“There ain’t nothing lower than trading rifles to the Injuns, Button. Every last one of ’em should be dragged to the nearest tree and hung.”
“Most folks feel the same way ’bout bank robbers,” I said.
Kinrich frowned, but didn’t reply.
Chapter sixteen
We found them the next day.
It was mid-afternoon. Me and Kinrich were sitting a-horseback up on a ridge, and we were well-hidden in some trees.
Below us, about a quarter of a mile, was the Jones’ wagon. They were camped beside a stream, and they looked to be in no hurry to go anywhere.
Kinrich sat there for a good hour. He never said a word, and his face was real thoughtful as he studied the land before us.
I started to get restless, but I knew not to say anything.
“Nice layout,” Kinrich finally said. “See that big bunch of cottonwood trees on the other side of the wagon?”
I looked and nodded.
“After it gets dark, we could sneak right up to ’em if’n we was quiet enough.”
“Specially if they sleep as hard as you do,” I said.
Kinrich’s face stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“I was just joking,” I said quickly.
“Weren’t funny.”
There was an awkward moment of silence, and then Kinrich turned his horse and led out.
“Come on. Let’s circle in behind ’em before dark.”
I kicked up Slim and fell in behind Kinrich.
Kinrich didn’t say a word until after it had gotten dark, and by then we had circled in behind them. We pulled up in a low spot that was surrounded by trees, and Kinrich dismounted slowly and rubbed his shoulder gingerly.
“You all right?” I asked worriedly.
“I’m fine,” Kinrich replied, and he added sharply, “And keep your voice down. Voice travels far on a clear night like this, and we ain’t too far from ’em.”
“Sorry,” I lowered my voice.
Kinrich pulled out his six-shooter and made sure it was loaded right.
“Stay here, Button. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Can’t I come with you?” I spoke quickly.
Kinrich holstered his six-shooter and shot me an odd look.
“Don’t you want to stay here where it’s safe?” He asked.
“I’d rather come with you,” I replied.
Kinrich frowned as he thought on that, and then he shrugged.
“Come along then. But make sure and tie your horse good and tight. We don’t want him wandering off.”
I tied Slim to a tree and followed after Kinrich.
“Walk slow and quiet now,” he told me.
I nodded, and we crept from tree to tree.
I was nervous. My heart beat wildly, and my arms were shaking.
It seemed like forever, but finally we could make out the wagon. It was directly in front of us, and their horses were off to the right.
I noticed that one of the horses was still saddled. I looked at Kinrich and pointed, and Kinrich nodded when he saw it.
From the campfire a man suddenly stood, and me and Kinrich melted to the ground.
The man had his back to us, and he turned and walked over to the horse. He mounted up and looked down at the other two men.
The moon was shining just right, and I got a good
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